Anno Domini
by Lyoko Native
Summary: A collection of short stories from the universe of 'Live Free or Die' and 'All for Our Country.'
1. THE AUCTION

**THE AUCTION**

Lyna sat next to the tree and compulsively rearranged the gifts beneath it. She did this several times before releasing a frustrated groan and continuing. Jeremy laughed, which startled his ferret and caused it to scurry around his neck before calming down again. His sister glared at him. "Don't laugh at me!" She ordered with false seriousness. They both laughed, but then Lyna stopped laughing and asked him with all seriousness, "Hey, you're going to be around for my birthday this year, right?"

Jeremy blinked. "What do you mean?" He asked obliviously.

"Well, on my eleventh birthday, we were too busy with elf stuff, and you forgot." Lyna began. "On my twelfth birthday, you were too busy stuffing Laurelei, and you forgot. On my thirteenth birthday, you were on the brink of insanity so we had to tie you up a smidgeon on the tight side, and you forgot."

The elf boy laughed nervously. "Whoops?" He said, more of a question than an excuse. He shook his head. "I don't plan to go anywhere…" His eyes clouded over for a moment as he became lost in thought. He placed his feet on the coffee table and began to fill in a crossword puzzle. When he finished, he noticed the unusual silence and asked, "So, where is everyone again?"

"Yumi's with her dad, Ulrich went with Yumi, Gus is with his grandparents and Odd flew to Italy to be with his family." Lyna responded without skipping a beat. "I mean, this _is_ a Christian holiday, after all. A good percentage of the world is Christian…"

"You wouldn't know it, though, what with all this commercial crap…" Jeremy muttered. He scratched the top of Mort's head, and the ferret rubbed up against his hand and made a small ferret noise.

Lyna watched her brother for a moment, then smiled and asked, "Do you remember way back when, before all of the elf stuff and the Xanadu? When every year on my birthday, I'd go into your room at midnight and wake you up. You ask me what I wanted, and I'd ask you if you wanted to be the first person to wish me a happy birthday…" She sighed and fiddled with the feet of her stockings, holes in the toes revealing festive colors painted on her toenails.

Jeremy scoffed. "Yeah, I remember that. I also remember that you used to put on a really scary costume and wake me up at midnight every year on my birthday." He said, and the elf girl shrugged.

"That's what you get for being born on the scariest night of the year!" She reasoned.

"How is that my fault?" He demanded.

She shrugged as a knock came to the door. She stood and walked over to it. "Hello?" She greeted warmly as she opened the door, but her warm expression faded when she noticed the people standing on her porch. There stood two men of equal height in matching black suits, white shirts, black ties and dark sunglasses—despite the fact that it was dark outside. Their haircuts were identical, but the man on Lyna's left side had brown hair while the man on her right had red hair. Parked in the snow behind them was an armored vehicle with 'C.R.S' painted onto the side in white, stencil-style letters. She said nothing at first, but then took a few steps back and called out, "Daddy…!"

Lyna ran to get Michael and the two men stepped inside. Jeremy stared at them for a while, but when they returned his stare with a hard and cold look, he jumped and looked down to his feet. Mort hissed before scurrying around the elf boy's neck. It positioned itself so it could stare at the two uniformed men while lying protectively around Jeremy's neck. It drummed the tip of its tail on Jeremy's shoulder much like a person would drum their fingers on a table.

After a few minutes, Michael and Kya walked out, Lyna standing behind them like a small, frightened child. The redheaded man placed one of his hands on his knee, reached into his pocket with his free hand, pulled something out of it and extended his newly cupped hand to the elf girl. Scattered randomly on his palm were small bits of something that looked crunchy, dry, brown and not very appetizing, but he shook his hand, as if to coax her forward to it. She looked from the apparent dog food in his hand to his dark sunglasses, and the man with brown hair smacked the redheaded man on the back of his head.

Michael stared at the two men firmly for a moment, and then he asked, "Can I help you two gentlemen?" His voice seemed less than enthusiastic.

The redheaded man coughed, as if to clear something from his throat. "Um, yes, we have orders to take one of the elves in this residence into custody, sir." His voice was unnaturally low, as if to sound more official, but it only made him seem like he was lying.

The man with brown hair sighed and placed his temple in the palm of his hand. "You must forgive him. He's new at this." He apologized for the redheaded man. "We work for the federal government through the new organization called the Creature Relocation Service, or the C.R.S." The man with brown hair turned to the redheaded man. The redheaded man turned to the man with brown hair and held a briefcase with silver latches from underneath. The man with brown hair unlocked the latches and opened the briefcase. Inside were two stacks of papers, one with a white paper and a pink paper stapled together and another with just a pink paper. The man with brown hair flipped through the packets of pink and white paper before pulling one out. He tore the white paper from the pink one and handed the white paper to Michael before placing the pink paper on the pile of other pink papers inside the briefcase. He closed and latched the briefcase before turning back to the elves. "If you were to be as so kind as to identify which one of you has their name written on that warrant, we'll just be taking them and going about our way quietly."

Michael looked the paper over and blinked in shock. He held it closer to his face a reread it, as if holding it closer would make him notice something he might have missed. Instead of bringing the paper down, the elf man glared over the top of it and said, "You aren't taking my son."

Kya snatched the paper from Michael and read it over frantically, and Lyna stood on her toes to observe the paper as well. Jeremy had stiffened at that, but he hadn't panicked like his family had. He removed his feet from the coffee table and made a move that suggested he would stand, but Mort—who strangely appeared to understand what was going on—bit the ear lobe of the elf boy. He flinched—his ear being a sensitive not to mention tender area on his person—but didn't cry out. Jeremy grabbed the ferret's jaws and gently pulled them apart. When Mort no longer clung to his ear lobe, the elf boy moved the ferret from his ear and cupped it in his hand, releasing its jaw upon doing so. He placed it carefully on the arm of the couch.

Jeremy walked over to the C.R.S agents and tapped the redheaded man's shoulder. When the redheaded man looked at the elf boy, so did the man with brown hair. "Are you looking for Jeremy Belpois?" He asked, his blue eyes flashing from the man with brown hair to the redheaded man. They nodded, and Jeremy pointed to himself. "That's me."

Michael grabbed his son's shoulder and pushed him away from the men in a gruff but fatherly way. He and the man with brown hair began to argue, but the redheaded man jumped at the chance and got down to eye-level with Jeremy. He removed his dark sunglasses to reveal bright green eyes, and the freckles on his face became more apparent. The elf boy realized that the man couldn't have been more than eighteen. The redheaded man opened up his briefcase again and removed a metal collar from a hidden pocket on the top of the briefcase. There were several dials, each labeled differently. The redheaded man clicked on of the dials, and a light on another dial began to glow an eerie neon yellow color. That particular dial had multiple numbers going up by ten and ending at seventy. The odd thing about that dial, however, was that there was no zero. The first labeled number was ten, and before it there were nine tiny tick marks, but no zero.

"How old are you?" The redhead man asked.

Jeremy said nothing at first. "Fourteen," He responded, and the redheaded man looked at the glowing dial. The elf boy heard seven clicks before the redheaded man looked back up to him. He seemed relived, however.

The redheaded man laughed quietly. "Good. I was hoping you wouldn't say something like thirteen or fifteen. I'm conflicted about those numbers that don't really have even halves, you know? I don't want to put the dial too low, but I don't want to put it too high, either…" He shook his head and looked back to the collar. "Any special powers?" He asked.

The elf boy looked over to attempt to look at the dial. It had labels like 'HYK,' 'PYK,' 'GEK,' 'AEK,' 'ELK,' 'TEK,' 'PHK,' 'LUK,' and 'NONE.' "Uh, I can control water and its forms…" He said, and the redheaded man turned the dial to 'HYK.' "If you do mind me asking, what does that mean?" Jeremy pointed to the label on the dial.

The redheaded man looked up to Jeremy briefly before attaching the metal collar around his neck. "Hydrokinesis or hydrokinetic. It means—" He was interrupted.

"Yeah, I know what it means; I just didn't know what the abbreviation meant." Jeremy waved his hands in front of his face. He looked down to the collar, but couldn't see it. Even though he could no longer see it, he could feel the strange and almost sinister aura that it gave off. "What does this thing do…?" He asked himself quietly.

Jeremy complied when the redheaded man turned him around, and he heard handcuffs snap and lock. Apparently, so did Lyna, because her ears perked up and she looked to Jeremy. When she saw the handcuffs, the elf girl ran over to her brother and tried of pull them off.

The only thing that resulted from this was Lyna being picked by the man with brown hair and two sore wrists on Jeremy's part.

The man with brown hair put Lyna down again, and when he did, she rushed off to the staircase that led to the upper level where her bedroom was located. Michael shouted something at the C.R.S and started for the master bedroom. The two men motioned for Jeremy to follow them. Kya looked between all of them and shouted, "Hold it right there, George!"

All three elves stopped dead in their tracks. And, for that matter, so did the man with brown hair. The redheaded man continued to walk, but when he noticed no one else was moving, he froze in a position that resembled the robber's position when the cop car's headlights shone on him in those really old cartoons.

Kya walked towards the agents of the C.R.S and shoved the paper in the face of the man with brown hair, who they assumed was named George. "This doesn't say when or where we can visit him or send him things. It doesn't say how long he'll have to be there and it most _definitely_ doesn't say anything about the living conditions of where he's going." She objected sternly, her expression melting from one of seriousness to one of concern. "Do you expect me to let my son leave with you when I don't know a thing about where he's going?" She glanced to the redheaded man and noticed that he was still not wearing his sunglasses. "You! Would you want your mother worry about you under circumstances like this?" She asked him.

The redheaded man looked at Kya for a long time, but said nothing. Jeremy placed his hand gently on the elf woman's arm, and she looked down at him. "Mom," He tried to reassure her, but his voice shook. He obviously was just as scared as she was. "I'm going to be alright, okay?" He looked from Kya to Michael to Lyna, and he nodded at them. He looked to Lyna and mouthed to her to look under his pillow in his bedroom before trying his best to wave good-bye to the elves in his family as he followed the two men out to the armored vehicle.

George opened the door to the driver's seat and motioned for the other man to open the door in the back. The redheaded man did as he was told and dragged Jeremy along with him. He opened the doors and helped the elf boy into the back of the vehicle. The inside of the armored vehicle was made of metal with two benches to either side, but otherwise, it was empty. The elf boy went inside and sat down, and George closed the doors. A few minutes later, the C.R.S vehicle started.

Jeremy closed his eyes and leaned his head on the armored wall of the vehicle. He lost track of time, but a while later, he jumped at the sound of breaking glass. The elf boy looked around, but even when he realized then broken glass was nowhere near him, he couldn't relax. He heard glass break again, and then he felt the vehicle spin off-course. It flipped over at one point, and Jeremy found himself on the ceiling of the vehicle afterwards. He backed into the corner of the vehicle, an instinct of which he wasn't familiar.

The doors swung open, and the elf saw a figure walk in. What the figure looked like, Jeremy was too frightened to note it. They walked over to Jeremy and fiddled with the collar around his neck. He heard the dials being turned, and then the figure pulled on the collar. The figure released it as soon as they did, and the elf soon learned why. An electric shock was sent up his spine, and he lost consciousness.

* * *

When he regained consciousness, Jeremy sat up quickly. He looked around, and the first thing he registered was a dark red curtain and yellow lights. The next thing he registered was a cage, and then the sound of a little girl crying. The elf boy looked in the direction of the crying girl, and she, too, sat in a cage. She had black hair in pigtails, and her skin was dark. She rubbed her eyes, but when she moved one to wipe her eye, Jeremy could register that she, like him, was an elf. She wore a pretty dark pink dress with white accents around her neck and on her sleeves.

The elf boy looked off in the opposite direction. Another cage was next to his own, but instead of a crying girl, a boy with caramel-colored skin and long, dyed blue hair sat inside. Like the girl in the other direction, the boy to Jeremy's other side was an elf. He wore a white button-up shirt and dirty jeans. He wore black Wellington boots and dark brown suspenders. A white piece of paper with the phrase 'E35-PHK7-15F' written on it was taped to his chest. When the other elf boy noticed that Jeremy was looking at him, he nodded his head in acknowledgement and said, "Hey, what cha lookin' at? You gay or somethin'?"

Jeremy shook his head. "No, I'm just trying to figure out what the fuck is going on…" He said, looking around.

"Hey, what yur mouth there!" The elf boy snapped. "There are children 'round here! Ain't none of 'um want to hear yur dirty mouth!"

"Sorry," Jeremy apologized.

"Yeah, ya should be," The elf nodded. He looked at Jeremy in confusion and said, "Yeah, uh… E18-HYK7-14. Ya should be."

There was a silence as Jeremy contemplated what the elf had said. "…What?" He asked.

"E18-HYK7-14. That's yur number, ain't it?" The elf asked.

"Number…? My name is Jeremy, not EK47-whatever it is…" Jeremy shook his head.

"E18-HYK7-14," The elf corrected.

Jeremy looked at him for a long time. He sighed. "Fine. Alright then, uh, E35-PHK7-15, what's going on?"

"We're at auction." E35-PHK7-15 responded.

Jeremy paused again. "What?" He asked.

E35-PHK7-15 stared at Jeremy. "Yur're new at this, aren't cha?"

"Yes."

"Auction. It's this thing where humans come an' bid on us here creatures."

"Why?"

"Why da ya think? This is Alabama! Some people are still a little bit sore about the slaves bein' set free an' all."

"So… we're being auctioned off as slaves?"

"Naw, not all of us. People come with diff'rent motives from all over. I'll bet a good number of us'll be slaves after all this, but there'll be some who make it out free." E35-PHK7-15 pointed to the little girl next to Jeremy. "She definitely won't, though… little miss E10-LUK4-8."

Jeremy looked at the little girl. Though he couldn't see it, he assumed that she wore a paper that read E10-LUK4-8. "What makes you say that?" Jeremy asked.

"Look at 'er, E18-HYK7-14! She's black! And she's really young! I'm sure lots of people will try to save 'er from this, but ain't no carpetbagger in the whole damn world that'll have enough money to outbid a rich southern man with a grudge!"

Jeremy opened his mouth to protest, but instead listened to a voice that had come over the intercom. "Ladies and gentlemen! Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedules to come and see our fabulous array of elves and hobs!" A man greeted an unknown crowd. The curtains began to part. "And here… they are!" The man announced like a ringleader. Jeremy could see the announcer, but he was blackened by a shadow, so he couldn't see his face. The crowd he was speaking to was blackened out by a darker shadow. "Alright, enough circus bark… first thing on our list… bring forward E1-ELK47-94!"

There was a moment of nothing, but an unseen person dragged a cage forward. At first, Jeremy couldn't see who or what was inside, but a spotlight flashed on over the cage suddenly, illuminating an elderly elf woman with thin arms and fingers inside it. Her white hair was in a mess, and even from the distance Jeremy was at, he could hear her nervous breathing. The announcer shouted some 'good' things about the elderly elf woman and asked to start the bidding at forty grand. Jeremy watched as the woman looked from the announcer to the crowd, and he could hear her mutter 'no' repeatedly.

He looked back to E35-PHK7-15. "You seem like you've done this before."

"Yeah. There's a ten-minute time limit on all bids, and if no human bets on ya after ten minutes, they store ya away until the next auction. I myself have experienced that, but also I've been returned." The elf explained, and he stared blankly off into the distance. "I've also been sent to other auctions and whatever, and somehow I wound up here…"

Jeremy reached for the collar of his turtleneck to pull it up, and while that was successful, he also realized that he wasn't wearing the metal collar. He smirked, but he looked back to the elf woman. He sighed, but that only made him more determined, and he closed his eyes. He felt his body turn to water and he slipped through the bars of the cage, and he ran.

* * *

After a while, the announcer called for Jeremy—or, more specifically, E18-HYK7-14. When he was brought aware that the elf was missing, the announcer ordered that the exits be closed off, just in case the elf hadn't made it out yet.

Which, Jeremy wouldn't be proud to admit later, he hadn't. The exits were sealed seconds before he reached them. It had taken hours to find the exit because he was unfamiliar with the building, and he'd been so close, failure seemed impossible. He tried to force the door open, but it refused to. "Dammit!" He cursed, and he tried to think of what to do next. Someone tugged on his turtleneck and forced him around. It was a security guard of some sort, and the elf boy tried to wiggle free of his grasp. They were approached by a man with slicked back black hair, bright eyes and a red-and-white pinstripe suit.

"Nicely done," The man in the pinstripe suit congratulated the security guard, and Jeremy recognized the voice as the announcer. The announcer looked to the elf boy sternly. "Thought you could get away from us, did you? No one escapes on my watch." He looked back to the security guard. "Take him back to the auction."


	2. THE BONDSERVANT

**THE BONDSERVANT**

Jeremy's side hurt from laying on it, but he knew it would hurt more if he rolled over to lay on his back. The pallet he was attempting to sleep on and had been attempting to sleep on for the past months was scratchy, the blankets were both scratchy and made him itch, and the wounds left by a whip on his back would only hurt more than they already did if he turned. It was a problem he faced, making his side hurt less without rolling over. He had once attempted to simply roll onto his other side, but even then when his wounds didn't stretch all across his back, touching the pallet for even a brief moment would make his back stick to it uncomfortably. He hadn't hurt that badly since his burns from Laurelei had vanished, but at least, he pointed out to himself silently, the marks on his back were from a small mistake he'd made instead of a huge one that ruined his life.

The elf had been forced into slavery by a man who, quite frankly, lived in the northern state of New Hampshire—which only added insult to injury because the state's motto was 'live free or die'—in a port city with a significant history. Truth be told, there wasn't much for him to do there, but that didn't stop the man who had enslaved him to make him do everything—eventually resulting in a mental schedule that Jeremy was having difficulty remembering at the moment.

He was forced to abide in the corner home of his 'master,' a two-story white house with a bay window. It was a pleasant enough house to live in, but Jeremy wasn't so much living there as he was trapped inside of it. He realized that what he felt must've been what Aelita felt like; not wanting to be in a place that you couldn't leave, not knowing when you'd be able to leave or when someone would find you. Even then, he supposed, living in the house that he was forced into would've been torture for Aelita because she liked books so much, and across the street was a library.

Jeremy found that torture as well, but he'd learned to ignore that.

The elf boy sat up, and he rubbed the back of his neck. The skin where he'd been tattooed with a number felt strange in comparison to the rest of his skin. They'd legalized it—the enslavement of magical creatures. It had taken a while, but it had been done. Creatures taken into custody were evaluated—those deemed fit for manual labor would be put up for auction. The highest bidder took the creature back to their home state and a new number would be tattooed into their necks. At the auction, Jeremy had been E18-HYK7-14, while the number tattooed into his neck was EHYK1821305-NH.

It meant something completely different than his auction number. The number tattooed into his neck meant that there were more that one thousand enslaved creatures in New Hampshire alone, the two in front of it meaning he'd been enslaved as a teenager. Not only did that number say that, but that number was his identity. No other creature had that number, so if someone saw his number, doing a search on that number would bring up his name, his master's name, his place of residence before enslavement, his master's residence… the list continued, and what Jeremy knew was on the list was only the things a human could find if they searched his number.

And while the invasion of privacy bothered him, he worried for the humans with slaves. Thousands of creatures in servitude, and at least one of them had to belong to the Xanadu. The humans who owned them would be doomed.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sat up, his dark blue eyes shut for a moment as he lost himself in thought. From below the floor of the attic where he attempted to sleep, he heard his master's grandfather clock chime. He counted six chimes, and he groaned. Jeremy was torn between the night being too long and morning coming too early in the day. The elf boy stood and opened the doorway connecting the attic to the second floor. He hopped down to the floor below him and noticed that his master had already woken up, and he hoped that the fact meant that he'd left for work already.

Jeremy walked down the stairs to the pile of logs next to the fireplace. He grabbed a couple of logs and placed them in the fireplace. He grabbed a match from the mantle and lit it, but before he could start the fire, someone pushed him into the bricks of the fireplace. The elf dropped the match—which by chance fell onto a log, thus starting the fire—and hit the brick hard. He simply stayed there for a moment, the pain stunning him, but he soon peeled himself from it.

It took another moment for him to assess the damage. The right lens of his glasses had nearly shattered, leaving a large crack in it but still remaining in the frame. Jeremy could smell and taste the blood that dripped from his nose and the inside of his cheek. He sat still before he looked up innocently at the person who'd pushed him—his master.

His master's name was Griffith Thompson, though Jeremy wasn't allowed to call him by his first name. Instead, the elf boy called him Master Thompson at the best of times—and that fact killed him on the inside. Master Thompson was not a man of grave humor. His face reflected that, and his light brown hair was beginning to recede and turn grey. His eyes were pale blue and speckled with green and orange. They, like Master Thompson himself, were often humorless, but they sparkled at that moment, as if Jeremy's pain amused him. As if to confirm that, Master Thompson smirked for a moment, but he became stern very quickly and then became angry. "You're supposed to get up before I do! Do you realize how long I've been up?" He shouted, grabbing the elf's blond hair and lifting him up by it.

Jeremy shook his head, having not even realized Master Thompson had even been around. "Six minutes!" Master Thompson shouted the answer, and the elf boy resisted the urge to be sarcastic about the fact. He continued to shout at him, but what he said, the elf boy didn't understand. Eventually, Jeremy's pained expression no longer appeared to be amusing, and Master Thompson dropped him. He hit the tile next to the fireplace with a 'thump,' and the elf's master said, "I have to go. You have chores to do. Get to work."

Griffith Thompson grabbed his briefcase, placed a hat on his head, and his annoyed expression melted into one of the typical office worker. Jeremy watched him exit from the front door and then drive down the street. The elf boy sighed gruffly and stood shakily, his body already hurting after starting only a few minutes of his daily schedule. He spit into his hand, and he noticed that his saliva had mixed with his blood. He sighed again, and he walked into the kitchen. The elf boy washed his hands and then left the water running to get the bucket stored in the pantry. Jeremy then placed the bucket under the running water and opened various drawers until he found the rag he used when washing the floors or the windows.

Not that, he noted, the floors or the windows _needed_ washing. He cleaned them every day, sometimes several times a day, and because of that the elf was sure that his master had the cleanest floors and windows on the street. Under any other circumstances, Jeremy simply would've ignored the fact that he had to clean the floors and windows, but if he did that… the result wasn't pretty. It was as if his master had this obsession with floors and windows, and if they didn't sparkle with elfin slave labor when he returned every night, he could _tell._ He could just _tell._

Jeremy tossed the rag into the bucket and then turned off the water. He tried to lift the bucket, but his arms were shaking too much for him to manage it. It was a combination of malnutrition, sleep insomnia and the abuse he suffered that caused the shaking; and the elf boy rubbed his eyes from under his glasses, and he lifted the bucket from the sink and placed it on the kitchen tile. He pulled the rag from the water and rung out the excess water. His world spun, and his head felt heavy. Dizzy, he put his head on the edge of the bucket and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, it was out of shock. The grandfather clock was chiming again, this time seven times. Jeremy had lost track of time, and he'd forgotten what he'd been doing. He looked from the rag in his hand to the bucket his head rested on and realized that he hadn't yet washed the floor. He dipped the rag in the bucket—it had dried out—and then scrubbed the tile with it.


	3. THE CONDITION

**THE CONDITION**

"_Ribbit,_" Aelita, age five, croaked to the tiny brown frog that had stopped to rest next to a puddle shortly outside the gate of Hermitage. She watched it intently, her pink rain slicker covering her legs to the top of her matching rain boots. "_Ribbit,_" She croaked again, and the frog returned it. Nothing could have seemed to please her more, and she glanced back at the house before cupping the frog in her hands and stuffing it in her pocket.

She looked back at Hermitage, and then happily splashed in the puddle. The water dripped into her boots, but the mud barely splashed over the soles of her boots. Aelita glanced around briefly and felt a wet autumn leaf land on her head. She pulled it off and grinned, but upon doing so, she felt dizzy. The little girl wobbled back and forth, but she caught herself on the gate before she collapsed. Aelita tried to pull herself up, but she couldn't manage it. Her world was spinning, and since she couldn't pull herself up, she gently lowered herself to the ground and closed her eyes. She heard her mother call her, but what she said and how far away she was didn't register. Anthea called out for Aelita again, but once again, received no answer.

Anthea huffed, and she pulled on her shoes. She called out for her daughter again, but when she noticed her lying on the ground, seemingly passed out, Anthea ran towards Aelita and placed the little girl's head on her knees. The older woman placed her hand on her daughter's forehead, and pulled it away quickly when it felt hot. "Aelita? Are you okay?" She asked, but when Aelita didn't respond, she picked her up and carried her into the house.

Anthea placed Aelita in her bedroom before running down the hall. She pushed on the wall at the end of the hallway, making it turn. "Waldo?" She called into the room behind the wall, and her husband looked up to her. He smiled for a moment, but it vanished when he saw the distress in her eyes.

"What's the matter?" Waldo asked, standing up. Anthea walked into the room quickly.

"Aelita," She said, pausing for a moment, trying and failing to calm down. "She's passed out and she's running a very high fever." Anthea placed her hands over her heart, feeling it beating at a pace that was borderline heart attack. Waldo blinked, but he motioned for his wife to follow him to their daughter's bedroom.

Waldo felt Aelita's forehead, and he, like Anthea, pulled his hand away when it felt hot. He removed Aelita's pink rain slicker—he and Anthea both jumped when a tiny frog hopped out of the pocket—and dropped it on the floor. He did this hoping it would cool his daughter's temperature, but after a few minutes, it seemed to get warmer instead of cooler. Waldo straightened his back and walked a few paces away from Aelita's bed. He weaved his fingers together and slightly separated his palms. Red flashes of electricity came from his palms, but soon the electricity formed a sphere. When it did, he forced his palms towards the wall opposite of him.

The room took on a deep red hue, and Anthea blinked. "I didn't know we could do that…" She said to her husband, her voice trailing off. The room's aura was obviously charged, and while she could see no change in Waldo, she felt different somehow. How, she couldn't put her finger on it, but something was nevertheless different.

"It doesn't matter right now," Waldo shook his head. He looked to Anthea, and he smiled softly. "I can see your aura now," He pointed out, using his pointer finger to indicate the airy blue energy that emanated softly from his wife. Anthea held her arms out and looked down to them. She, too, could see the blue energy. She noted that it only emanated about one and a half centimeters from her arms.

Anthea looked over to Aelita, and while she could see Aelita's aura, too; it was clearly different than her mother's. The color was pink instead of blue—that wasn't surprising, seeing as how the color of aura in their family usually differed from parent to child—but that wasn't the most notable change. The most striking change was how far it emanated from her tiny five-year-old body, and what happened to it at the edges. Anthea ran to her daughter's side. The aura emanated somewhere between ten to thirteen centimeters from her body, and at the edges it faded into the air. "This isn't normal…" Anthea muttered as the dark red hue faded from Aelita's bedroom. At the same time, Aelita and Anthea's auras were no longer visible.

Waldo walked over to Anthea's side. "No, it isn't. Something's wrong with her, but what, I do not know…" They watched Aelita for a moment, and then Anthea stood up and walked out of the room. "Where are you going?" Waldo asked, watching his wife. She didn't answer, and a few minutes later, she returned with a book in her hands. She was flipping through it, and Waldo looked over her shoulder as she did so. It was then that Aelita opened her eyes. She noted that the title of the book was '_Domestic Oddities and the Magical World._'

"I think this may be it…" Aelita heard her mother whisper to her father, and the little girl rubbed her eyes.

"…Mommy? Daddy?" Aelita murmured, her voice tired and shaking. Her parents' eyes shot up to her, and she sat up a little bit. "What happened? I feel gross…"

Her mother shushed her and pushed a stray hair from Aelita's face. "It'll be okay. I promise." Anthea said, kissing the side of Aelita's forehead in a loving way. Her mother skimmed the page in the book, and her father looked at it as well. Anthea muttered something to Waldo that Aelita didn't catch, and then motioned for him to follow her out into the hallway. "We'll be right back, sweetheart,"

Waldo shut the door behind him when he and Anthea walked out into the hallway. Aelita tilted her head in confusion, and she jumped off her bed. She wobbled upon doing so, but she snuck over to the door and placed her ear on it. While she'd missed the first part of the conversation and couldn't decipher who was speaking, she could understand most of what her parents were saying. "…she's not going to be able to use her powers until she gets better. How long will that take? I'm not sure… the book doesn't say. I don't think she can get better, actually, but if anyone could figure it out, it would be you. What about a medicine that slowed the rate of the energy she's releasing? Would that help? I already told you that I'm not sure! If you manage to make something like that, though, she still won't be able to use her powers, my guess… the illness prevents her from holding onto the energy her body generates, and that's why she won't be able to use it… but the stage she's in is very late in the symptoms' usual progression. She must've been sick for months now and we didn't notice any of the little things…"

Aelita backed away from her door as the conversation continued. She managed to conclude that she was sick, and it was frightening—she'd heard about people dying because they were sick, and she was pretty sure that she was too young to die. Her eyes welled up with tears, but she swallowed and held them back. She watched the door, waiting for her parents to enter again so she could interrogate them. Instead, someone pounded on the door, and her father called inside, "Aelita, honey? Could you come to the door, please?"

She wobbled to the door. "Y-yes?" She called out to her father when she reached it.

"Baby, I'm really sorry, but I can't open this door." Her father began. "Not just yet, anyway. When I do, you have to promise me that you won't try to escape, okay? The last thing I want to do is get you hurt."

Aelita was confused. "Why would I do that?" She asked.

"You're sick, sweetie." Her mother answered this time, and her voice was shaking.

The little girl paused. "Is it contagious?"

"No," Her father laughed. "But don't yet know all the effects it'll have on you. So we need you to stay in your bedroom, okay?"

She thought about that for a moment. Aelita nodded, but then she realized her parents' couldn't see her, and she added, "Okay,"

Her parents didn't say anything to that. A few seconds after, however, she heard a click. Aelita wasn't sure what the click was at first, but something compelled her to try to open the door. When she did so, however, it simply clicked and refused to open. Aelita tried to turn the knob the other way, but the door still wouldn't open. The little girl frantically turned the knob, and she released a small, frightened whimper. Aelita gave up on the doorknob and pounded on the door, hitting it with her tiny fists and kicking it with her right foot. "Wait!" She shouted, tears squeezing out from her tightly shut eyes. "_Mommy! Daddy!_ I changed my mind! _Wait!_" She stepped a few paces away from the door, and she looked up at it with wide eyes. She stamped her foot and cried out, "_Let me out!_"

When the door didn't open, Aelita fell to her knees, crossed her arms on it and placed her forehead on it. She began to cry, and she murmured, "Just let me out…"


	4. THE WATER ELVES

**THE WATER ELVES**

Michael stood behind Jeremy, age eleven, in the house near the beach that their family rented every summer. It was getting dark outside, but that didn't stop Michael from pushing Jeremy to get the one hydrokinetic technique they'd been working on all day right.

Jeremy had hit puberty, therefore his elfin features and his hydrokinesis had begun to come out. They'd taken a trip to the beach house they rented each summer, which was located at Virginia Beach, not only so the elf boy could practice his hydrokinesis but also so Lyna could practice her pyrokinesis back at the mountain house in West Virginia.

In front of the water elves was a trough full of water. It was the first day of training for the younger water elf, so they were practicing inside for two reasons—one, it was sunset, so many couples would be walking along the beach and they would freak out if they saw Michael and Jeremy, and two, if Jeremy messed up a technique, practicing inside would prevent the shattering of windows, or at least the shattering of windows that didn't belong to them.

"Try it again," Michael ordered sternly.

Jeremy looked over his shoulder to his father and nodded. He focused on the water, and then raised his right arm, his fingers loosely pointed at the trough and his elbow bent. A small snake-like stream of water rose from the trough and was suspended in the air. He did the same with his left arm, and another stream rose up, identical to the first. The first two streams were the easiest, and it was after the two that Jeremy began to have trouble.

The goal of the exercise was to have five streams in all. To Jeremy's frustration, he didn't have five arms.

The elf boy paused. He knew that he had to continue, but he'd tried and failed nearly a hundred times earlier that day, and it was what his father described, 'the easiest practice technique besides wiggling a single stream.' Jeremy was beginning to think he'd never get it right.

"Jeremy," Michael said.

The elf boy closed his eyes, and they twitched. "What?" He asked in annoyance.

"Go on. Finish practicing." His father instructed.

"I will!" Jeremy snapped, the muscles in his arms and hands tensing, causing the streams of suspended water to crinkle. The elf boy relaxed, and the streams became smooth again. Jeremy flattened his right hand so the palm of it faced the floor, which was supposed to transfer the suspension of the stream on the left to the right hand. He brought his left arm down and made the top of it face the floor. He raised it.

The stream on the left rose up, and just to the left of it, the water curved up into a dome. The stream on the right collapsed, and the splash broke Jeremy's concentration. The other stream collapsed as well, and the water dome popped like a bubble. Jeremy placed his palms on his forehead and weaved his fingers through his blond hair. He groaned. "Why isn't it working?" He shouted.

Michael sighed. "I think that's enough for one day, Jeremy." He said, walking over to his son and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe a good night's sleep will help you."

Jeremy huffed. "Doubt it. A good night's sleep never helped me with anything." He complained.

His father sighed again. "Just…" He'd raised his voice subconsciously. "Just go to bed." He lowered his tone, walking out of the room and to the sliding glass door that lead to the porch. He opened it, and then closed it most of the way. Jeremy had watched his father leave, and he followed him to the door. When he saw Michael in a position of prayer, he slid the door open just enough so he could slip through and eavesdrop. "O Heavenly Father, you've been so good to me in my life. You've blessed me with two beautiful wives, one of whom left me and the other I'm deeply in love with. You've blessed me with two beautiful children.

"But, my Lord, I have but one request. Please give me…" Michael paused. "…please send me a sign that what I'm doing…" He paused again. "…isn't a complete waste of time."

Jeremy slid across the outside wall of the house and down the steps that led to the beach. He sighed. He wasn't upset with his father—in fact, the elf boy had been wondering the same thing as his father—but he was upset with himself.

The elf boy sat down on the sand. It was winter, but he didn't care about the cold. The sun had set by that time and Jeremy could see the moon rising on the horizon. He gripped his head again and shouted, "Why can't I get this?" He fell backwards onto the sand, looking up at the midnight blue sky. "I mean, should it really be this hard?" He became lost in the sky for a moment, and then sighed. "I wish Aelita were here. But she only ever seems to show up after a photo is taken."

He sat up. He watched the waves for a moment before he stood. He focused on the waves and brought up the two streams. Jeremy closed his eyes and pictured the three other streams in his head. He moved his arms and hands the way his father had shown him, and when he opened his eyes, he almost lost his concentration when he saw that he'd done it.

"Dad!" He shouted, keeping the streams suspended with one hand so he could turn to look at Michael. In the distance, Jeremy could see his father move to look down to the beach. It was then that Jeremy realized that his father most likely couldn't see the streams. The elf boy looked around and noticed a rock.

Jeremy swirled his arms like a pinwheel. The streams of water shot over his head, one directly over the elf boy's head and the others arching down in a dome-like fashion, and hit the rock. A few moments after, a drop of water hit the elf boy in the eye, and he broke his focus to rub it. The water drenched him. He groaned again, and he heard a large splash in the background. Jeremy turned around and saw a huge wave above him.

He threw up his hands and closed his eyes, wishing that the wave would freeze. He felt something cold touch his palms. When Jeremy opened his eyes, he saw that the wave had actually frozen. The elf boy stood there for a moment, paralyzed, and then smiled. He ran back up to the porch. Michael was standing there, the frozen, pointy tip of the wave centimeters away from his forehead. "Dad, did you see what I did?" Jeremy asked, excited. "Did you see?" He asked again.

Michael regained his senses and smiled at his son. "Seems like you're getting the hang of it." He said, rubbing the top of Jeremy's head. "Now go to bed like I told you."

Jeremy nodded and ran inside. Michael looked up to the sky. "I know I asked for a sign." He said, speaking to an unseen deity, "But I don't recall asking for it to be so bluntly obvious."


	5. THE MONSTER

**THE MONSTER**

Laurelei examined the wire clothes hanger, which she'd twisted and deformed beyond all recognition to serve as a homemade abortion. Something about her body felt definitely… _off,_ she decided. She left her private bathroom for her bedroom, where witches Morgan and Merlin sat. The two witches were the gancanagh's most trusted friends. Morgan was fixing her makeup on one end of the bed, and Merlin sat with her laptop open to a website about homemade abortions.

Morgan and Merlin were twins, but the only time they looked exactly alike were in black-and-white photographs of them when they were young. Morgan had fair hair, but Merlin had pure white hair. Merlin was the older twin, and she was albino, so it was dangerous for her to be out in sunlight, but Morgan tanned enough for the both of them, enough so that she was orange. However, they shared the same light blue eyes. Since they were witches, they couldn't go out in the rain, and on that particular day, it was raining.

Morgan wore a light blue turtleneck without sleeves, jean short shorts that were fuzzy at the ends, and a popular type of shoe that Laurelei was waiting on a custom-order white pair of. Merlin, on the other hand, wore the same type of shirt as her twin in black, black skinny jeans and a similar pair of shoes. Merlin had trouble with her eyes, and wore black thick-rimmed glasses.

Personally, Laurelei didn't like Merlin. The elder witch practiced magic as white as her hair and skin, and there was nothing corrupted about white magic. She adored Morgan, however—the younger of the twin witches was exactly like her if she had orange skin and blonde hair.

Morgan, at that moment, looked up from her compact and smiled. "Well, that takes care of that! No baby's going to hold you down, right, Laurie?" The younger witch laughed and sat up.

"Merlin, be a doll and see if the website lists any… downsides," Laurelei demanded, still looking at her wire hanger. Realizing that it was too late for her to do anything about the 'downsides' if there were any, she tossed the hanger away. She changed into a tank top with spaghetti straps, a short skirt and her hip-high boots.

The elder witch scrolled down, and when she noticed something, she laughed nervously. "You weren't planning on having kids anyway, right?" She asked before giving her answer.

Laurelei huffed. "What does it say?"

"It says that there's a chance you could…" Merlin shook her head. "Basically, it says that if you screw it up, you'll probably never be able to have kids."

Morgan smiled and laughed again. "But you hate kids anyway, so it all works out!"

The gancanagh nodded in agreement, and she smoothed her dark hair. She tied it up into a bun on the back of her head and told herself that Morgan was right, and she wasn't upset. After all, she _did_ hate kids, and the baby daddy would be dead within the week besides. "Oh, Merlin, we have to go. We have to help the other witches pinpoint Franz's location," Morgan said, pulling on her older sister's arm. "I'm sorry, Laurie, but this is sort of important. Call us if you need us!" She winked knowingly. Morgan knew of the corruption Xana was starting, and she knew that her older sister did not. Why would Merlin? Merlin had a heart of gold, and she wouldn't stand for the Clan to assassinate the Human King!

Perhaps, Laurelei wondered as the witches left her bedroom; that was the reason she hated the elder witch so much.

But the gancanagh had no time to worry about silly details like Merlin, Franz or pregnancy! She ran out of the room, grabbed an open elevator and headed up to the private box she shared with her father and grandfather, the infamous Xanadu himself. She greeted the men warmly, pretending nothing had happened.

Or more of, that nothing was about to happen.

She looked to Xanadu, who, though he was no spring chicken, refused to sit in the chair provided for him. His hair was as white as Merlin's, but his skin had a 'normal' hue. He had piercing green eyes, with pupils that resembled those of cats'. He was very old; wrinkles defining his face. His white hair was long and pushed from his face, only a few strands dangling in his face. The creature seemed stern as he stood with his arms tucked behind his back, but was only worried about Franz.

_Franz, Franz, Franz!_ Laurelei thought. Why was everything about that goddamn son of a bitch? As far as she was concerned, Lyoko had been doing **fine** before him, and they were doing **fine** without him!

"Look at those two," Xana noted about the fighters they were observing. "They certainly can hold their own, can't they, Father?"

Xanadu nodded. "I still don't understand why we hold these silly battles. We're a peaceful organization, merely searching for our king." He pointed out; several of his words allowing view of his abnormally sharp canine teeth. His granddaughter stifled a laugh. Oh, if only her grandfather knew what was so funny about his comment!

Xana probably thought the same, but if he did, he didn't show it. "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times—we may be a peaceful organization, but the vampires have created a dictatorship that does not share our values! When the Human King Franz returns to Lyoko, they simply won't just step down," He explained.

The leader of the Clan shrugged, and he took a drink of his coffee. "I disagree to these savage things," He shook his head. "But I do agree that they are impressive. Who did you say they were?"

"Jeremy and Lyna Belpois, if memory serves," Laurelei said. "Elven fighters from West Virginia. Eleven years of age, both, and siblings. They were highly recommended by the Winters, but I believe we've gotten several requests from their parents about pulling them out so they could resume schooling."

"Bah," Xana waved the idea off. "There's nothing a human school can teach them that we can't,"

"Except genetics," Xanadu mumbled.

"Screw genetics," Laurelei said, slightly offended. "It's weird, though, it says on their applications that they weren't planning on returning to school."

Xana shrugged. "Parents probably told them they couldn't so they could focus on their powers. Like you always say, Father; when one door is firmly shut, it's easier to open another."

The creature leader rolled his eyes. Both Xana and Laurelei sighed. Between them and Xanadu, there was no love lost. The three creatures watched the battle as it continued. At the height of the battle, the elf girl sent out a sudden fire blast that resembled an explosion highly, and Xanadu jumped. Laurelei and Xana looked to him, emotionless, and he glanced between the two of them. "My, my, this certainly is exciting," He explained, a hand on his thumping heart. His two creature descendants looked back to the battle, and so did he.

But his heart wouldn't stop pounding. A moment or two later, he noticed something very wrong. "Oh, dear God," Xanadu muttered, his hand flying back to his chest. He sat down in the chair. "Oh, dear God, call the paramedics," He ordered, "_I'm having a heart attack!_"

In response, Laurelei and Xana merely watched as the leader of the Clan fumbled around. After an undefined amount of time, Xanadu stopped moving, and he stopped breathing.

"He's dead," Xana stated the obvious.

Laurelei turned around in her chair. "Well, _that_ took longer than I thought it would."


	6. THE LIFE AND DEATH OF ULRICH STERN

**THE LIFE AND DEATH OF ULRICH STERN**

July 1931, Germany

Ulrich bounced his soccer ball on his ankle, and he kicked it through the metal poles that served as the net. Germany was in a massive depresion, and the government's solution to it was to to print more money. Inflation was so high, Germany had growing unemployment and the National Socialists were slowly gaining power. Ulrich, unlike the parents of his friends, could see the lies of the Nazi party. He listened to these politicians speak, and heard their promises. He was sure they did not intend to deliever.

He had faith in the German people. He knew that they would wise themselves to the evil of the Nazi party.

* * *

Inside, Ulrich's father, Otto, read his spell books. His wife, Flora, entered the room and lit her candles. "Otto, my love, have you noticed the world feels... strange?" Flora was Wiccan, and Otto had enchanted her. She could virtually communicate with the Earth, but in her mother years, her mind was beginning to leave her. Yet, she had her moments, and this was one of them.

"I smell death on the horizon," Otto said, closing his grimoire. "I fear for us, Flora." He said. Not even his magic would save them, he feared.

"We could go to Lyoko," Flora offered. "I'm sure they'll understand, Otto." She held his hand.

Otto stood and yanked his hand away. "You are a silly little woman, Flora." He said. He had been a member of the Council of Creatures. His authority had been challenged by a lower-ranking wizard. They dueled, but in his anger, Otto killed his opponent. He was a wanted man in Lyoko. His family's death was as certain on Lyoko as it was uncertain in Germany.

Flora thought for a moment. "Perhaps we could send Ulrich to live with my sister near the Polish border." She said. "At least that way if we die, he'll survive."

Otto looked at her strangely. "Your sister? She's a bit... much, isn't she?" He said.

"But she's far away from all of this mess." Flora said.

* * *

Ulrich found his Aunt Liese's home strange, and her hobbies even stranger. "Why did my parents send me to live with you?" He asked, looking to the urn on the mantle and the skull on the desk.

Liese laughed. "Oh, they seem to think that the Nazi party is going to doom Germany," She said. She took Ulrich's luggage and threw it on the bed.

"Although I can't imagine they're far wrong," Ulrich said.

His aunt laughed. Ulrich decided he would reconsider his thoughts on the Nazi party's influence. Or his thoughts on his aunt's sanity. Maybe both. "Follow me, Ulrich." Liese motioned for her nephew to follow her. She gave him a tour of the house. He saw the door to the basement. "Don't go in there!" Liese's sudden voice startled him, and he turned. She wore a desperate expression, and she walked towards him slowly. "You're just a child, Ulrich. You won't understand. Stay out of the basement!"

* * *

A few days later, Ulrich was awakened by a young girl's screams. He leapt out of bed and grabbed his wand from the nightstand. He crept down the stairs, prepared to cast spells should the need appear. He found his way to the basement door, and a strange blue light shone from under the crack. He heard the girl scream again, and he tried to open the door. It was locked, so he used his magic to unlock it.

Ulrich ran down the stairs to see his Aunt Liese holding down a Jewish girl from the village. She latched her down onto the table after a man with the lower body of a spider pushed a corpse off. Ulrich sent a spell at the girl, and the latches undid themselves. She jumped off the table and ran as fast as she could, and Ulrich cast a spell to make her run faster.

"Ulrich! Make yourself useful and catch the kyke!" Liese shouted.

"No, Aunt Liese! I don't know what you're doing, but it ends now!" He declared, and he prepared to attack. He twisted the earth around the spider-man's legs, tripping him. Liese used a strange gun to neutralize his magic. Ulrich waved his wand, but he could not focus his magic through it. The spider-man stood, and Liese ran forward. She grabbed her nephew and dragged him into a small room. The spider-man she was with yanked the wand away from him, and waved his hand. The room was sealed off with glass.

Ulrich ran forward and pounded on the glass. With another wave of his hand, the spider-man began to suck the air from the room. "Doctor, my sister expects her son to remain alive until this political storm dies down." Liese objected.

"Have no fear, nurse. His soul will remain within him. When your sister comes for him, you can free him." The spider-man said.

Liese nodded, and she closed the curtains that blocked the entrance. He started to breate faster, and Ulrich's heart started to beat faster as there was less and less oxygen to breathe. He began to wheeze, and he was filled with pain. Eventually, he passed out.

* * *

Otto and Flora Stern never came for Ulrich. Otto was arrested two years later, taken as a political dissident. Flora received his bloodstained shirt a few months later, and she knew he was dead. The year after, Flora was taken, as she showed 'asocial' behavior. She was sent to Ravensbrück, where she died of malnutrition. Ulrich's soul, after spending so long outside of his mortal body, lost grip of its memories, and spent decades waiting for release. This release came from Yumi Ishiyama and Lyna Kiovote, and completion came from Menelwen.


	7. THE MASTER

**THE MASTER**

Griffith Thompson was born in Ohio as Tommy Fletcher. Tommy was the seventh son of a seventh son, a strange and rare combination that granted sight into the Faerie Courts. The Faerie Courts of Earth, having separated themselves from Lyoko, protected themselves from prying eyes with magic. But even strong magic has weaknesses. Tommy could see them, enter their homes, spy on their tricks. And he always rememered to leave food out for the Fletcher family brownie.

But as he grew older, Tommy's abilities isolated him from others. His parents believed him crazy and sent him to speak with a therapist. It appeared to help for a while. Tommy did not speak to the fairies so often and he started dating. His first girlfriend was sixteen, but small for her age. But as he grew older, his taste in partners changed, but in the wrong way. At age nineteen, he was dating a thirteen-year-old. At twenty-one, he raped a twelve-year-old girl.

It had been a crime of passion, and the Unseelie faeries had told him that passion was true life. Tommy Fletcher tried to explain this to the court, but he was not believed. He was dubbed unstable and sent to an asylum. He was mocked by the caretakers there, asked him he'd heard the faeries telling him to do anything.

But then, a goblin came to him and set him free. He changed Tommy's appearance and sent him out the window. He knew that he could not be Tommy Fletcher anymore, so he became Felix Dupris. Felix Dupris became a successful businessman, as he owned a chain of used car lots. He eventually sold off his stores to a man with a very attractive daughter that colored his taste in children for the rest of his life-blond hair and blue eyes. Felix made advances towards this girl, but she threatened to scream if he touched her. He was wiser than Tommy had been.

Felix dyed his hair black and moved to Arizona. He changed his name to Kyle Garcias, and he worked as a janitor in a middle school. He slowly saw himself change in Arizona. He cared less and less what people thought of him, and desired more and more someone he could own. He saw himself get older, and he saw himself get angrier. He wanted to hurt someone.

Kyle left Arizona and moved out of the U.S into France, adopting the name Jay Clark. There he started noticing strange people, and among them a gancanagh named Gael and an elf named Jessamine.

From Gael, Jay learned that magical creatures lived amoung humans but feared to show themselves because of humanity's long history of genocide. From Jessamine, he learned that gancanagh poisoning weakens the body's ability to fight back against orders. He also learned that Jessamine did not love this gancanagh, but had been married. Her ex-husband had custody of their son, Jeremy.

Jay Clark murdered Gael. He drained the poison from his skin and hurled him into the ocean. Jessamine could go six weeks without a hit at first, but soon months could go by, and she was regaining her mind.

So Jay decided that he would keep her captive, for a while, at least. He moved back to the U.S, but as a wandering millionaire named Alvin Jefferson. He and Jessamine travelled up and down the country, causing trouble and making a lot of money. Jessamine may have even loved Alvin, but he was using her. She knew this.

They were driving through small-town West Virginia one day when Jessamine shouted, "That's him! That's my son!" She ducked under the dashboard.

"How do you know?" Alvin asked.

"You think I don't know my own son?" Jessamine snapped. "Look at him! He's a carbon copy of me!"

It was true enough. The boy did look like a young version of the elf woman. His hair was blond, and when he looked up at the girl who ran inside for something, he could see his eyes were blue. Alvin pulled the car over and approached the boy. He stood over the boy before the child looked up. "Salut, Monsieur," He said quietly before returning to his toys.

"Salut, mon petit garçon," Alvin said, kneeling down to get on eye level. "Je m'appelle Tommy. Vous vous appellez comment?" He asked.

"Je m'appelle Jeremy." The boy said. He offered a toy car to Alvin. "Voulez-vous jouer?"

Alvin took the car from Jeremy. Then suddenly, Jeremy was lifted off the ground. Alvin turned to see an elf man-he hadn't bothered to cover his ears before going outside-holding the boy. "Stay away from my family," He warned before going inside the house with an elf woman with caramel-colored skin.

"Desolée, Tommy! Un autre fois?" Jeremy called. His father Explained to him carefully that he was not to talk to strangers.

Alvin Jefferson checked into a nearby hotel and started stalking little Jeremy, in order to 'help' Jessamine reconnect with her son. He started by taking pictures of him. Then, he discovered where he went to school, and started looking into his teachers. He found one woman, Miss Jean Powers. Oh, but she a pretty thing, with light blond hair and almost glowing golden eyes. A troubled history, though. Her mother had killed her father, leaving the young English teacher to raise her two sisters, Fiona and Suzette. Fiona had recently run away, and Jean was heartbroken.

He began to date Jean in hopes to get closer to her, under the alias of Oliver West. After three dates, Jean sent Suzy to a babysitter and invited Oliver over to dinner. But they did not eat dinner. Oliver dragged Jean into her bedroom, and tied her up.

"The little French boy, Jeremy. What do you know about him?" Oliver demanded. Jean was sobbing. Oliver was dressed in a full body suit, as not to leave evidence, so he had no qualms about choking the young teacher. "Tell me!"

"I'm sorry," Her voice cracked. "I don't know anything. I swear!" She begged for her life, promised she wouldn't go to the police if he let her go.

But Oliver didnt care about Jean. "Oh, but isn't it a shame that your knowledge of Jeremy Belpois could save her." He mused.

Jean flinched. "Save who?" She asked.

"That lovely little sister of yours. What was her name? Suzy?" Oliver suggested. "I have my partner eyeing her right now. What a shame. She had such potential."

"No, wait!" Jean shouted. "Mother is in prison, Father is dead and Fiona is God-knows-where doing God-knows-what! Suzy is the only thing keeping me going! Please, don't hurt her!"

Oliver punched her with iron knuckles. "Then start talking, bitch!" He shouted.

Jean sobbed. "Jeremy Belpois came from France with his father, Michael. He's some kind of doctor. Michael is dating this Indian from Wyoming, Kya; she's got a daughter Jeremy's age. Michael has some mansion on top of the mountain, that's whee he and Jeremy live. Kya and Lyna live near the private school." Jean sobbed harder. She'd given everything away. "That's all I know, I swear! Now please, leave Suzy alone!" Oliver agreed, and he tied a rope around Jean's neck. He stood her up on the chair while she begged for him not to kill her. "I've been good! I told you everything you wanted! I won't go to the police! Oh, God, please don't kill me!"

Oliver analyzed the situation. He kicked the chair out from under Jean, hanging her. It was all over the news. 'English Teacher Commits Suicide'. Suzy Powers was deemed a ward of the state and put into foster care.

Oliver moved in next door to Kya, who recognized him right away and called Michael. A week later, Kya moved in with Michael. They were still nearby, however.

For years Oliver, who had adopted Griffith as his new name, and Jessamine worked to convince Michael to set up communications between mother and son. Until the children hit puberty, and Jaycee Winters informed the Xanadu Clan of the creatures. Angry didnt begin to describe Griffith's reaction. Jessamine stole a book on the Xanadu Clan and brought it to Griffith. "Look, Griffith. If you can find the King, you may be able to get part of his power! Then we can erase Jeremy's memories and we can raise him together, as if he were our own!"

Griffith liked this idea. He used Jessamine to contact the Xanadu Clan in New York City, and then they discovered Laurelei.

Laurelei gave the outwardly appearance of being a horrible person, but inside she mourned for the sister who never saw adulthood. Jessamine begged Laurelei to seduce her son, which was a bittersweet thing for her. He convinced Jessmine that Jeremy could survive the addiction, and Jessamine convinced Laurelei of the same.

Just as Griffith thought, the dedication of Jeremy's friends lead him to France, to that little house called Hermitage where the Royal Family dwelled. After Laurelei told the duo, quite angrily, that Jeremy was dead, Jessamine was sent to investigate herself. Jeremy was not dead.

Griffith contacted a witch in the Xanadu named Morgan. Morgan impersonated Laurelei for months, hunting down Jeremy and his friends in France, and other places, too. But Griffith saw an opportunity when Queen Anthea left France for an unsuspecting town in West Virginia.

He was surprised to learn Aelita was still alive, but that gave him leverage. He contacted Morgan and paid her to either kill Aelita or kidnap her. Either way, Anthea would be forced into his arms.

Sure enough, Aelita went missing. "What's the matter, gorgeous?" Griffith asked the Queen one snowy night.

"That... punk has gotten Aelita kidnapped! My poor baby!" Anthea cried. "Oh, how I dread the day I ever heard the name Jeremy Belpois!"

"Come here, Anthea." Griffith said, pulling her close. "You see, I just so happen to own a milk company." He said. "And I am an influential figure in the state. I could... arrange to have Aelita's picture on the milk cartoon, and spread flyers around." He suggested.

Anthea's eyes lit up. "You would do that?" She asked. "Oh, thank you, Griffith! Thank you so much!"

"Don't thank me yet," he said. "You don't expect something for nothing, do you?"

"I'll give you anything you want!" She said. "Money? I can pay you!"

"No, I don't want your money." He eyed the Queen. "I want something more personal."

"I'm married!" She protested.

"Never stopped anyone before." He said. "Certainly not you. I know who you really are, Anthea. The Human Queen of Lyoko. And your rule was not marked with chastity, clearly."

Anthea thought for a moment. "My daughter will come home safely, right?" She asked.

"Safer than gold at the Federal Reserve."

"Okay. I'll do it."

Griffith kept his part of the bargain just in time for Morgan to fulfill hers. A few days later, Anthea, Waldo and Aelita were on a flight back to France. Using his wealth and his influential title of Alvin Jefferson, he paid for the U.S government to pass the Raborg Bill, establishing the Creature Relocation Service. He turned in Jeremy Belpois, paid men to hijack the C.R.S van and brought Jeremy to the already existing slave auction in Alabama.

The auction had been frustrating for Griffith because of competition for Jeremy's neck. But Griffith won and immediately began subjugation.

Jessamine, who could not live with Griffith during this time because of the plan, was horrified to know what Griffith was doing. It was even worse when the Rehabilitation Bill was passed, giving every identified creature a number, and in some cases handing them over to a human family to teach 'human' traditions. It was a slavery bill sugar coated with bullshit.

But Jessamine stuck to the plan, waiting for such a time where Jeremy was mentally weak enough for Griffith to erect a barrier.

Unfortuneately, the Federal government interfered. Jeremy was taken for Operation Titan. Griffith lay in wait for the perfect time to strike.

It came when Jeremy returned to his family home. Griffith sent Jessamine to West Virginia to collect him. Luckily, Jeremy trusted her, and agreed to go with her.

Jeremy arrived to Griffith in shock bonds to keep him from running. "Good job, Jessamine," Griffith complimented. "I knew I could count on you." He threw her the last vial of poison he had. She almost dropped it.

"You sold out your own son for a fix of gancanagh poisoning?" Jeremy spat.

"No. No! Jeremy it wasn't supposed to go like this!" Jessamine said.

"Lies!" Jeremy shouted.

"Griffith, tell him! Tell him what was supposed to happen!" The elf woman pleaded. When her love would not, she said, "We wanted to raise you as our own but we could just... kidnap you as a child! We wanted to erase your memory, build a life away from your father!" She said.

Jeremy wore a betrayed look. "Erase my memories...? What about the good memories that I have? What about my family, my friends?" He demanded. "They won't stop looking for me!"

"The only person who could find you is dead!" Griffith spat. "I have the Kaliwanagan and I felt it when Aelita passed on! She's dead!" He laughed. "And it is your fault! You could not save her!" Jeremy looked shocked. His breathing became uneven, and he couldn't look up. Jessamine wanted to comfort her son. "Jessamine, go find a red cardinal. We need a feather for the ritual."

Jessamine nodded, and she turned to walk away. Griffith shot her in the head with a .10 millimeter pistol. Jeremy flinched as she fell.

Griffith got down on eye level with the elf boy. "Je m'appelle Tommy. Vous vous appellez comment?" He said. Jeremy seemed confused at first, but then his eyes widened in realization. Griffith put his thumbs and index fingers on Jeremy's forehead, and created a mental barrier. When he was finished, the elf boy fell to the ground, unconscious. Griffith carried Jeremy into his car, and then to his home.

There, he prepared for his awakening. When Jeremy awoke in Griffith's bed, he grabbed his head and looked around, remembering nothing despite having spent months there in his slave days. He didn't even remember his own name. "You took a few knocks to the head, didn't you?" Griffith suggested.

Jeremy looked around. "I... guess. I don't remember." He said.

It had worked! "The past does not matter, Jeremy. You have plenty of time to remember."

For the next five weeks, Griffith was living the dream. He was making quite a bit of money, and he had a multi-purpose slave at home who could not say 'no'. Then Aelita showed up, and tried to steal Jeremy from him. The last few moments of Tommy Flethcher's life were filled not with fear, but with anger.


	8. THE FUGITIVES

**THE FUGITIVES**

'_We lost again in the arena, but the fighters weren't as supportive as they were last time. Last time they spoke about how we would get them next time, but today there was nothing but cold stares and silence. It was strange. Jeremy has me worried, too. I barely see him. I feel like something is very wrong, but if we don't find out what it is soon, I think that we're going to have a problem._'

-Excerpt from the diary of Karolyna Kiovote

* * *

Lyna wasn't the idiot she pretended to be. She was actually rather intelligent, and before he had gone bonkers for Laurelei, he had taught her some computer hacking skills. She put those into practice breaking into the adult's bedroom, where surely she would find Jeremy. Her first instinct was right, and he was on his computer on her bed. Lyna didn't ask why. She already knew. "Is the Queen Bitch around?" Lyna asked, hesitant to touch anything.

Jeremy rolled his eyes. "Do you see her here? Then of course not." He sassed his sister. He blew a strand of hair from his face. Lyna was convinced he needed a haircut, and she would be for several months, but she never said anything. "What do you need, Lyna?"

She hesitated, but not for long. "Have you noticed anything strange about this place since Xanadu died?" Lyna asked.

"No, not really," Jeremy said. Suddenly he shuddered, but nothing came of it. Lyna let out a sigh of relief. There were days where he suddenly flew off the handle after his convulsions, and he'd frightened her more than once. But she never stayed mad at him for long because she knew that he was not truly to blame, but withdrawal. "Why? Have you noticed anything strange?"

Lyna shrugged. "I don't know. Something just doesn't seem right." She smirked. "Hey, are you up for breaking some rules?"

"You know that I'm all for breaking rules," Jeremy smirked back, closing his laptop. "What did you have in mind?"

Lyna approached him and spoke quietly. "Tonight, Yumi, Ulrich, Gus and I are going to break into the inner sanctum of the Xanadu base. Yumi has connections, so she can get us there virtually unnoticed. We play our cards right, and we get in and out without anyone knowing what hit them." She frowned. "The only trouble is, I'm not as skilled a hacker as you, and Gus can't access the computer without short-circuiting it. You, on the other hand, are much more capable."

Jeremy thought for a moment. "You sure we aren't going to get caught, Lyna?" He asked cautiously.

She crossed her heart. "Swear to God," She promised.

He nodded. "I'll be there."

* * *

Yumi paced nervously back and forth. Her short black hair flipped back and forth. "Are you sure he said he'll be here?" She asked.

Lyna nodded. "He promised. I'm sure he'll be here in no time at all."

Ulrich looked at the demigoddess and grinned. "He's probably getting a fix," He joked.

Lyna recoiled in horror. "Shut up man; that shit isn't funny!"

Gus stood up suddenly. "Here he comes," He announced, pointing to a figure running towards them.

Jeremy caught up with the others, and he started panting. "I don't know how much time I have, so let's do this quickly." He started walking towards the door, and he looked up at the video camera suddenly. Then, he looked to his side. "Get out of here! I don't want you here!" He shouted, waving and screaming at nothing.

Lyna grabbed his shoulders and led him inside. Jeremy shook his head, and he sat down at the computer. The room filled with clicks and taps as he hacked into the main database of the Xanadu Clan. "It looks fine. They're still looking for King Franz." He announced, and he looked to his sister. "See? There is nothing to worry about." She pointed to the screen, and he saw exactly what there was to be worried about.

There were plans to exterminate the entire human race. Xana's hatred had truly grown, unchecked by his wise father. The Arena Fighters were being trained to be an army, which was why there had been so much disapproval when the elves had lost. The teenage elves no longer had what it took to be soldiers. If they lost again, they would be 'replaced.' Murdered.

Even Gus, Yumi and Ulrich were in danger of execution if their skills did not improve. There was a silence as that sank in. "Guys, we have to get out of here. Now!" Yumi ordered, pulling Jeremy out of the computer chair. The sudden movement triggered a fail-safe system, blasting the teens out of the mainframe. Before falling unconscious, the teens felt magic rush over them, and they lost part of their memory. They remembered the plan, each other, their past, but what they had forgotten was, obviously, lost.

Ulrich was the first to recover, since he had felt no real pain. A woman in a long white gown with short pink hair looked at him. "Who are you?" He felt like he had seen her before but that felt like a dream now.

She spoke with sadness in her voice. "I cannot tell you who I am, or it will disrupt the flow of time, and I have learned my lesson." She helped Ulrich to his feet. "But I must inform you that Jeremy is running out of time. Gather a sample of poison from Laurelei and find transportation out of here. Go to the Belpois family, but search for an antidote to gancanagh poison. Jeremy's life depends on it. Do not let the others know that you saw me." She vanished.

Ulrich helped Yumi to her feet first, and then the others, but it was harder to awaken Jeremy, normally a light sleeper. "I think we have to leave. Something tells me that we're running out of time." He explained. He looked to Yumi and Gus. "Take Jeremy to the room with all the vehicles. We're getting out of here, today. Lyna, you and I need a sample of Laurelei's poison."

She seemed confused. "Why?"

He paused. "I don't know. I just think that we need it." He said. Lyna shrugged. "Okay, let's split up."

Ulrich and Lyna went down to Laurelei's bedroom. She was inside, talking on her phone. "…It wasn't supposed to be for this long. If I'm going to keep this up, Jessie, I'll need better incentive than just money… No, of course I haven't gone soft. Tell your man that I'm not some teddy bear. I'll—I'll kill Jeremy if I have to." She heard Ulrich enter the room and sighed as Lyna's fire sparked. "Listen, I have to leave. Don't… don't forget that." Laurelei spun around. "What are you doing in here, you pointy eared bitch?"

Lyna cringed. "Oh, I hate you so much, you purple-toed howler monkey!" She shouted. Lyna prepared her fire and launched it, missing Laurelei entirely. Laurelei prepared to attack her with her gun, but Ulrich flanked her, knocking her to her side. Laurelei boiled with anger, and she tried to summon her poison. Ulrich ordered Lyna to grab a glass from the desk, and he carefully cut Laurelei's cheek. She bled into the glass, but the blood was a purplish-black. "Maybe Dad can dilute it to just the poison." Lyna said, handcuffing the gancanagh to the bedpost.

* * *

Gus eyed an ambiguous white van. "You see, I like this van. I want a van just like this. Leather seats, plenty of legroom, totally unassuming, enough room in the back for an enchantment lab. It's virtually perfect." He explained to Yumi.

She rolled her eyes. "Great. Marry the damn thing. If we're taking this, help me get Jeremy into the back." Yumi said, and Gus helped Yumi place the dazed elf into the back of the van. Immediately after, Ulrich and Lyna ran inside the transportation room. "Did you guys get the poison?" Yumi asked.

"We got a sample of her blood. Maybe we can dilute it later." Ulrich said moments before the alarm sounded. "Are we ready?"

"As we'll ever be, I guess," Gus shouted over the alarm. He jumped into the driver's seat with Ulrich on the passenger's side. Yumi and Lyna jumped in the back to keep Jeremy from sliding around. The wizard summoned wings on the van, and short-circuited the helicopter door.

The van was already out of sight before the guards even knew what had hit them.

* * *

'_It has been two months since we escaped the Xanadu Clan base. Kya has been good about not mentioning our return around town. We wouldn't want Gus's mom to hear about our location. Honestly, I'm surprised Laurelei hasn't confronted us yet. No doubt that it won't last._

_January has rolled around, and Jeremy's withdrawal symptoms keep getting worse. Michael has tried to keep it at bay, but so far, nothing works._'

-Excerpt from the journal of Ulrich Stern

* * *

Whatever Jeremy was screaming, it didn't make much sense. He was violent, going through constant convulsions and everyone was frightened. Ulrich now knew why the ghost of the woman had told him to collect the poison—Jeremy had gone to attack, and Yumi threw it on his chest. He'd calmed down almost immediately and explained that his symptoms were getting worse. If they didn't hurry, he would die.

A few days after Ulrich wrote of this in his journal, Jeremy fell into the deep sleep.

* * *

'_Now it's September and we have no chance of finding the antidote. Lyna still has hope that we can save him, but she is the only one who still thinks it is possible. Even Michael and Kya have started funeral arrangements._'

-Excerpt from the diary of Yumi Ishiyama

* * *

Lyna closed the door to Jeremy's room. It was written on her face that she was losing heart. The group huddled together. It was the end of September and they were no closer than they had been in November. Yumi and Gus hugged her, as if to tell her not to give up, even though everyone else had. Ulrich went to join in the hug when the ghost woman appeared from Jeremy's bedroom.

Ulrich walked down the hallway, and she followed him. "You're back. Do you have another hint for us?" He asked.

She laughed bitterly. "I offer no hints. I am just being selfish." She looked back to the door where the others mourned. "Your next destination is a home called Hermitage in Paris, France. The antidote is there, I promise. Hermitage is located in the woods near Kadic Academy. Leave soon, for Jeremy is almost out of time, and your journey has just barely begun." She vanished again.

Ulrich used Jeremy's computer to cross-reference the name Hermitage with Kadic Academy and ran a scan to trace magical energy signatures. He showed the results to the others, and they agreed that, even if there was no antidote to be found at Hermitage, going to search for it there couldn't hurt.

The gang bid good-bye to Michael and Kya, and they prepared for their trip to France.

* * *

'_We found an abandoned factory nearby Kadic, and the sewers run right near the place Lyna and I want to be. Tomorrow we break into Hermitage, and we find the antidote. I only hope that we succeed. Jeremy's death would weigh heavily on us all._'

-Excerpt from the journal of August Winters

* * *

Lyna said a prayer for her brother as she prepared to leave. "Be safe, Jeremy. I don't know if I can save you, but I have faith that we will succeed. I know I've only said that, like, a hundred times before but I mean it." Gus rushed her to get moving. "Don't die on me, Big Brother. Gosh, that takes too long. When you make it out of this, I'm giving you a nickname."

The elf girl ran towards Gus, and the two climbed out of the abandoned factory. They then climbed down into the sewers, which Gus hated. Lyna lead the way down the sewer passages, and eventually they found the manhole that they needed. Gus paused momentarily to take in their surroundings.

Leaves hung by gentle stems from the branches of the trees, the bark a dark brown and the leaves colored fiery orange and pale yellow. It would have been beautiful had the sun been shining, not covered by the sickly grey clouds that ruining the sense of harmony given off by the early autumn scenery. But the clouds—sickly as they were—provided an adequate amount of shadows, perfect for sneaking around in and disguising inhuman appearances. For the magical creatures that lurked and lived in those woods, the dreary skies were a blessing.

* * *

A/N: This will likely be the last update for Anno Domini, so I'll mark it as complete. However, I may upload 'THE ORIGIN,' which is basically the first chapter of the ORIGINAL 'Live Free or Die' and honestly, I may not even do that. Anyway, this was a fun adventure.


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